


Diversions

by Cinnamongirl



Series: Lileas Lavellan [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Abelas Tel'abelas, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sketchy BDSM Practices, Solas' internal monologue is kind of a smartass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-11 02:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5609785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamongirl/pseuds/Cinnamongirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It had been a very long time since anyone had used the word “good” to describe Solas and it was only natural that he would appreciate hearing it, but there was no excuse for how hard it made him."</p><p>Shameless dom!Lavellan/sub!Solas porn ft. orgasm denial, among other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diversions

He had called her graceful once.

It was in the beginning when they hadn't known each other long, before Solas was hers and before he'd spent any serious time watching her fight. It was almost funny to think of it now.

Inquisitor Lavellan could only be considered graceful in the same way that, perhaps, lightning could be. The lovely assassin was terrifyingly fast and precise and could possibly be mistaken for delicate from a great distance, but she was also harsh and deadly and nobody who forgot this lived long enough to regret it.

 

“What are you thinking about?” she asked. Her hands were pinning his wrists to the bed and she was positioned on top of him so that he couldn't move. Solas could feel her bare skin against his own.

“You,” he answered immediately.

“Good.” 

She grinned wickedly and rocked back against his erection. He was pretty sure that she could feel it twitching against her body. “You like this, don't you? It's getting you excited?”

Solas gave a brief nod.

“What was that?”

“Yes, vhenan,” he said, because that was how the game went.

Lavellan moved so that she was sitting beside him on the bed. She released his hands, but he left them in place. “Touch yourself for me.”

He did so, sliding a hand down to squeeze his cock and starting to stroke it. It was embarrassing to do this for an audience but that was part of the fun, wasn't it?

She watched him intently and bit her lip. “Ooh, very good. You're so _good_ for me.”

It had been a very long time since anyone had used the word “good” to describe Solas and it was only natural that he would appreciate hearing it, but there was no excuse for how hard it made him.

“I love seeing you do this.” As if to emphasize this point, Lavellan started rubbing her own groin. “Mm, you make me so wet.” She pushed two fingers into herself as her eyes closed and her head fell back. 

“See what you do to me?” Lavellan removed her fingers and brought them to Solas' mouth, which he obediently opened for her.

She tasted exquisite, and like something dark. He moaned around her fingers and stroked himself faster.

When she'd apparently judged that her fingers had been cleaned enough, Lavellan removed her hand and dragged her nails down his chest. The sensation made him gasp and thrust up into his hand.

He could see tiny spots of blood following the trails where she'd broken his skin. The pain was sharp, but so was everything on this side and so was _she_. There was nothing soft or gentle about her and it just made her seem all the more real.

“You're kind of a pain slut, aren't you?” It was affectionate and not accusatory.

“Your eyelids are tattooed,” Solas pointed out drily. 

He tried to imagine her as a young woman, skinny and scowling and forcing herself to hold perfectly still as needles were driven into her skin. She'd risked permanent blindness in a misguided tribute to _Sylaise_ of all people. The whole idea was barbaric and sad but the idea of her bravery was oddly impressive.

“What do my vallaslin have to do with anything?” She sounded amused.

“You obviously welcome pain, yourself.”

“Yeah, but I don't get off on it.” 

He had no response to that.

She pinched his nipple, hard. He exhaled sharply and the movement of his hand on his cock became frantic.

“Maybe I should borrow a crop from Dennett, or get a cane to strike you with?” She squeezed both nipples between her fingers. “I think you'd like that. It's an idea for next time, anyway. Don't finish yet.”

Solas let go of himself just in time. 

“Good.” She smiled. “I'm having fun watching you, but I think it's my turn now.” Lavellan moved to the head of the bed and Solas briefly had an excellent view of her breasts as she straddled his face and lowered herself down onto him. “Keep touching yourself, but don't come.”

Her taste was even more delicious like this. She let him lick her for a few minutes until she evidently got impatient and just started riding his face. He idly continued to stroke himself, being careful not to build up too much sensation. Lavellan was significantly more interesting, anyway, and it was easy to focus his thoughts when he couldn't see anything else and he was overwhelmed by the scent of her. 

Solas felt her grinding against his mouth for several more minutes until he could tell that she was ready to come when her thighs started tensing and the movement of her hips became more erratic. He tried to apply as much pressure as possible with his tongue, and brought up his free hand to grip her backside in what he hoped was an encouraging gesture. She had been almost entirely silent up until now, but she gasped a few times and then made a soft noise somewhere in the back of her throat before relaxing against him.

Her legs trembled slightly as she climbed off of his face. It made something tighten in Solas' chest to realize that she was allowing him to see even a small sign of vulnerability. He also felt a little bit proud that he'd apparently made her come hard enough to have weakened her.

Lavellan crouched beside him on the bed. She noticed that his hand was still on his cock and she gave an approving smile.

“Oh, you're doing so well! I bet you're close now, aren't you?”

 _Very close indeed, and getting closer by the second._ “Yes, vhenan.”

“Excellent.” The wicked expression on her face was back. “Warn me before you finish.”

She pushed his hand away and replaced it with hers. She didn't bother with the slow, gentle strokes that he had been using but instead gripped him with exactly the perfect amount of pressure and speed and started jerking him off in earnest. 

It took barely any time at all before Solas gasped “I'm about to-”

She let go immediately, leaving him twitching in midair. He whined, almost involuntarily.

“I like it when you make noises, especially because you're so self-conscious. Wish you weren't, though. It's sexy.” 

He wasn't sure how to respond to that, but fortunately she didn't seem to be expecting a response. She just smiled and gently rubbed his thighs until he'd had a chance to calm down. Lavellan then retrieved a small bottle that looked identical to the ones she used for poisons, and poured something that he really hoped was oil into the palm of her hand. 

He shuddered when she started to touch his nipples with oiled fingers. The slipperiness seemed to add another new level of sensation as she pinched them gently and flicked them back and forth. Solas could feel his hips starting to squirm again but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

One of her hands trailed back down to feel his balls, and then his cock. She slicked both of her hands again and focused her attention on his groin, rubbing him with gentle, maddening touches. She stroked his shaft lightly and squeezed it and then ran her palm across the head in the way that always made him gasp, working him with the same methodical precision that he'd seen her use while picking locks.

His head fell back against the bed. He moaned softly, but audibly, and then mentally insisted to himself that he'd only done it for her benefit. 

Lavellan moved her hands slightly faster. Solas could feel the sensation building up again but he was able to hold it back, at least for now. His own hands tried to grasp weakly at the air, unsure what to do with themselves. His eyes squeezed shut. The entire world was overwhelming pleasure and need and _her_ , and for once there was something at the forefront of Solas' mind that was more pressing than everything he had done and everything he was going to do. The Inquisitor would probably never realize how grateful he was for the short reprieves that she provided him.

Solas' brief moment of melancholy didn't do much to sate his desire and before long, he was warning her that he was close and then that he was about to come.

At the last possible moment she slowed the movement of her hands and switched to indirect stimulation, denying him again. He exhaled sharply through his teeth.

“Oh, look, you're going all red! I love it when you do that.”

He glanced down to see that his chest was flushed. Solas barely had time to catch his breath before she resumed her previous pace. It was maybe five seconds before he could feel his groin tightening again. He started to gasp out a warning and she stopped, leaving him thrusting pathetically into the air.

“Ohhh, very good. I wonder how many times I can bring you to the edge, hm?” Solas very nearly climaxed on the strength of her words alone, but he forced himself to hold on.

It was two more times, apparently, and then a third. His hands managed to get a hold of the bedspread so that he wouldn't give in and try to touch himself. He focused on a spot on the ceiling because he didn't trust himself not to finish just from looking at her.

“-going to come,” Solas said once again. He braced for her to stop but her hand continued to stroke, squeezing with just enough pressure to send him over the edge. Solas concentrated on trying not to move or even think. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to hold against it for a seemingly endless time until-

“Something you learned in the Fade?” 

“Hm?” he said inelegantly.

She finally, mercifully, removed her hands. “Or maybe it's just a trick that mages can do? I'll have to ask Dorian sometime.” She eyed him, but her expression was unreadable. “Any normal man would have come from that. I know you've been ready for a while now.”

Solas forced himself to breathe, trying to calm down. He felt moisture on his cheeks and realized that he had been crying. It WAS true that he was able to manipulate the physical world in ways that she didn't fully realize, but it was still _difficult_. “You told me not to,” he finally said.

“So, you have all this knowledge and power and you use it to obey me?”

“Are you flattered?” he countered.

Lavellan smirked. “Oh, very much.”

She let the subject drop and started rubbing his thighs again. It was somewhere between soothing and maddening. “You're doing really well, Solas,” she said sincerely. “You're being so good.”

He was instantly hard again. 

She nodded in approval, which distracted him enough for her to sneak a hand up to pinch Solas' nipple. He whimpered. She squeezed his cock with her small hands and strong, confident fingers. Lavellan had more than brought him to the point where the lightest touches brought intense pleasure and an overwhelming _need_ , but the perfectionist side of her apparently insisted on trying to stimulate him as much and as expertly as possible.

“You really need, it don't you?” she asked a minute or so later after she had stopped yet again, leaving him writhing and gasping. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “Well, you'll have to beg me.”

“Please!” he said immediately. 

She was so _young_ , painfully mortal and already considered an adult at barely 30 years old. He'd never imagined that he would ever be begging someone like her for anything but as he'd once told her, she had a way of changing everything. “Please, let me finish!” 

She smirked. “Very good.” She sat up on the bed and gestured to a spot on the floor. “I want you on your knees.”

He got up, trying to keep his erection from brushing against anything, and knelt before her. (Almost as if in worship, he noted. Was that what she was going for?)

She lifted a foot and gently pressed it against his chest until he was sitting back on his heels, and then continued to drag her foot down his body and over the scratches on his chest to playfully nudge his groin. He gasped at the contact.

Lavellan set her foot down on the floor so that her legs were spread apart, probably daring him to stare between them. She gripped his jaw (with her left hand, of _course_ ) and brought his face to hers for a deep kiss that left him breathless. 

She pulled back, but left her hand in place. “You know, I wish you could see yourself right now, the way you look. I know I'M going to be thinking about it whenever I get myself off in the near future.” More serious. “I want you watching me. Remember whose you are.”

“Yours, vhenan.”

“Touch yourself.”

There was enough oil left on his cock to make it difficult to properly grip himself, but not enough for him to really slide back and forth comfortably. He stroked himself awkwardly and tried to keep his hands from shaking.

Lavellan gave him an appraising look. “Good, You may finish now.”

His already-tense body responded automatically to being granted permission. His groin tightened, his back arched, he mumbled something that was probably supposed to be "ma serannas" and it took only a light touch with one hand before he was moaning more loudly than he wanted to admit and spilling into the other hand, carefully positioned so that he wouldn't stain her expensive bedspread. Solas' mind didn't quite blank out but briefly, blissfully, it was quiet.

Solas never broke eye contact as he sank back onto his heels, feeling exhausted and boneless with relief. He saw that Lavellan was grinning and biting her lower lip.

“That was so fucking sexy!” She barely gave him time to wipe his hand clean before she dragged him up onto to the bed to collapse on top of her, and then rolled them over so that they were both lying on their sides. She smiled, and he couldn't help smiling in return.

“Are you doing all right?”

“Very well, thank you.” He felt smaller and weaker and strangely fragile but it wasn't unpleasant, not while she was here to hold him.

“Would you like some wine?” she asked after a few minutes.

“I would.”

Lavellan got up to pour some into two glasses. He turned his head to watch her naked body move across the room and sat up to take a glass from her when she returned. 

“You know, Bull invited me to drink with him earlier this week. He had this stuff called maraas-lok; it wasn't bad. Anyway, he kept saying 'Anaan!' before drinking. I couldn't figure out if he thought of dragon-hunting as some kind of battle or if that's what Qunari always say when they drink.” She laughed softly under her breath and held her glass out toward his. “Enasalin?”

In public she was the terrifying leader of the Inquisition, the perfect image of a fierce and deadly huntress, and he was her stoic apostate companion. The time they spent together laughing and sipping wine was precious, even more so because no one else had the privilege of seeing this side of her. He had already vowed, repeatedly, that he would never forget her but he silently promised to remember _this_ , when they were both vulnerable but also (in spite of or because of that?) comfortable around each other.

Solas chuckled. “Enasalin,” he replied, clinking their glasses together.


End file.
